


Taming Of The Screw

by omgbubblesomg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angel Grace Sex Toy, Digital Art, Dubious Consent, Edging, First Time, Forced Orgasm, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Past Rape/Non-con, Sam Winchester Needs Brain Bleach, Sex Curse, Sex Toys, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wall Sex, ceiling sex, gravity be damned, very little sex on sex-appropriate surfaces actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: Cas blinked up at him, and—thank God—he looked at least partially lucid. “Dean,” he said, “is it going to feel like that every time?”Which. Okay. What a question. “Um.” How was he supposed to talk an angel through multiple forced orgasms?





	1. How is this FINE?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GertieCraign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Best Laid Plans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10370922) by [GertieCraign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign/pseuds/GertieCraign). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cas, Jesus, man, do you really wanna do this on the garage floor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is carrying on the great and noble work of [GertieCraign](https://gertiecraign.tumblr.com/). Gertie asked for a smutty finish for her fic [The Best Laid Plans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10370922/chapters/22910472). The original fic is from last year (SORRY I AM SO LATE POSTING) and I highly recommend you read it. And for those who need a refresher:
> 
> Crowley wants Dean and Cas to get together, so engineers a complex plan to make sure that they bang. The plan involves putting an angel-proof insertable into Cas’s ass with vibration settings that he can control from his phone. The insertable is kept in place with an ensorceled metal band around Cas's waist. This fic picks up after Sam and Mary rescue them from Crowley, but they haven’t figured out how to get the insertable out, or how to make it stop…
> 
> Please be warned that the original fic has Crowley/Cas (kinda) and it is _non consensual_. Although I usually write dark stuff, THIS fic is all about consent and sexy fun times. So uhh... heads up! (btw that's what the major tag is for!)  
> Huge thanks to [majesticduxk](https://majesticduxk.tumblr.com/) for betaing!! Remaining mistakes are my own!!  
>    
> Also many thanks to [ImpalartSociopath](http://impalartsociopath.tumblr.com/) for the amazing art!!! (I'm still not over the noodle bois!) It's sfw don't worry ;)

Sam cut the impala’s engine at the exact moment that Cas climaxed.

“OKAY THEN!” Sam all but shouted, throwing himself out of the car as Cas’s groan of pleasure reverberated in the sudden quiet of the bunker’s garage. “WE’LL JUST GET OUT OF YOUR WAY!” Mary was hot on his heels and they both practically fled the scene, leaving Dean alone to deal with the orgasming angel in Baby’s backseat.

Cas was plastered up to Dean’s chest, almost in his lap, trembling with such force that Dean could actually feel it in his rib cage. “COWARDS!” he shouted at the retreating backs of his mom and brother. Cas moaned into his shirt. He had a teeny tiny desire to laugh, but then he remembered that Cas had a warded prostate massager jammed up his ass, and the laugh died on his tongue.

“Cas?” he tried, attempting to pitch his voice somewhere between are-you-okay and okay-time-to-get-off-me-you’re-not-a-blanket. Cas didn’t even react. Dean gingerly reached behind him to fumble for the car door. When he found it he yanked too hard on the handle and tumbled straight out, falling backwards onto the garage floor. Cas made a whining noise and made grabby hands at the air where Dean had just been. His eyes were unfocussed, but they managed to pinpoint Dean’s general location, and Cas half-crawled half-fell out the same door, following Dean down to land sprawling across him. Dean wheezed. “Jesus, Cas, you gotta—” He lost the last half of the sentence as an elbow was planted into his gut and a chin stabbed him in the fucking solar plexus. It was possibly the least comfortable way that Dean had ever imagined Cas on top of him. And he had imagined Cas on top of him _a lot._

And then Cas fucking _deflated._ Like a goddamn _balloon._ Just went limp on top of Dean with his nose tucked into Dean’s neck and one of his feet still in the impala’s footwell.

It was… actually quite sweet. They had only just delved into this new _thing_ between them, and what with the kidnapping and the torture and the angel-warding and Crowley shoving things in his ass and whatever, they had barely even _touched._ Dean opened his body into the cuddle and wrapped an arm around Cas’s middle to shift him, trying to get his rock-hard hipbones away from Dean’s squishable stomach.

Cas appeared to approve of the _Let’s Get Comfortable_ plan, and let himself get manoeuvred, somehow ending up straddling Dean’s legs with his chin on Dean’s clavicle, which was actually far less than ideal. The discomfort distracted Dean for a solid five seconds, so it took him far too long to realize that it wasn’t Cas’s hipbones digging into his belly, it was his goddamn—

_Oh Christ how can he still be hard?_

“Ooooookay!” Dean laughed, wriggling backwards to get out from underneath the very much turned on and very much dazed angel. “Alright, Cas, let’s get you down to the— _oomph.”_ Cas grabbed on to his legs and dragged him back across the concrete, slotting him back in between his thighs and nuzzling into him again. Dean squeaked and remained steadfastly not turned on. Mostly.

 _“Dean,”_ Cas all but purred, grinding down.

“Cas, Jesus, man, do you really wanna do this on the garage floor?”

“Do what?” He didn’t even seem to be aware that he was humping up against Dean’s crotch.

“Um, I mean, you know I’ll help you out, okay, but don’t you want to, you know, go downstairs, maybe? Find a bedroom?”

“Hm?” Cas blinked and looked down, and suddenly jerked upright. “What in the—!” He scrambled away and looked at Dean in horror. Dean held out his hands in the universal symbol of don’t-worry-I-kinda-liked-you-humping-me.

“It’s okay! It’s fine!”

“How is this _fine?”_

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, really. Sam and Mom are gonna figure out how to… to get that waist thing off, and then you can push the, the other thing out, and we can forget this ever happened.”

(Well, Cas could forget it. Dean would be reliving it every time he had five minutes to himself for the rest of his life.)

Cas groaned, and buried his face in one elbow, flexing and straining against an invisible force. “It won’t. Stop!”

“I know, I know, but it won’t be long.” He leaned forward to awkwardly rub Cas’s arms, and Cas latched on automatically. “Let’s just, uh, get to a bedroom, ‘kay?”

“Will the bedroom make it stop?”

“Probably not, but the likelihood of getting crushed into concrete will be reduced, so…” He hauled himself up, and this time Cas let him go, clinging to his arm only enough to also get dragged to his feet. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.” He steered Cas to the bunker entrance, and half-led, half-carried him down the hallway, trying not to bump into the walls every time Cas groaned and arched.

They passed by the library door and Sam’s head popped around the corner, squinting suspiciously at them. “You’re not about to start again, are you?”

“Fuck off,” Dean snapped.

“I apologise,” Cas said simultaneously.

Sam winced. “I, uh. Need to see the symbols on the metal waistband thing.”

Dean huffed but leaned against the wall, propping Cas up next to him. Cas immediately rolled his body sideways, rubbing up against Dean’s hip. Dean tried to hold him off because, _hello,_ Sam was _right there._ “Hurry up,” he snapped at Sam’s mortified expression.

Sam shook his head and held out his hands. “Oh. Nuh uh. I’m not—Can you just take a photo?” He disappeared for a second and then reappeared, tossing his phone over from a safe distance. Dean scowled at him but unlocked the phone one-handed, still holding Cas off—albeit barely—with the other. He tried to get a few angles of the waistband, but Cas kept moving his hips and blurring the shot.

“Definitely some Enochian,” he told Sam through gritted teeth, as Cas plastered himself so close Dean was pretty sure he was trying to absorb into Dean’s skin. “And at least a bit of Demonic. Maybe start with the Sunbound Spellbook and get Mom onto the— _Cas stop.”_ Sam started to look a little green as Cas grabbed Dean’s hand, shoving it between his own legs before he clambered over and around him, straddling him against the wall because _gravity be damned,_ apparently.

“Dean, Dean, it’s, it’s almost, it won’t stop, it’s getting stronger again, _Dean.”_

 

[Image: Dean is backed up against a wall and Cas is straddling him with a dazed expression]

 

“Sam, the spell stuff is in the basement! And don’t forget the witch bowl down there! And you’ll need _mmpfp!”_ Cas attached himself to Dean’s face and Dean gave up trying to communicate. He lobbed the phone at Sam’s head and tried not to be embarrassed at how quickly Sam vanished once he’d gotten what he needed, yelling back to just “Take care of Cas and we’ll do the rest.”

Cas, for his part, had his mouth open so wide Dean was momentarily worried that he was trying to eat him. But he was just panting and whining and gasping and pressing all the pretty sounds up to Dean’s face in the weirdest parody of a kiss Dean had ever been a part of.

“Okay, koala-boy,” he muttered into Cas’s cheek. “Let’s get to my room.” He wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist and lifted, grunting as the full weight bore down around his hips. Cas didn’t notice or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care. His legs were wrapped tight around Dean and he was madly grinding into Dean’s belly. No finesse or direction, just a desperate sort of need which was as hot as it was horrific. “Come on, Cas, almost there.” Dean staggered from wall to wall. Cas’s room was closer but he was aiming for his own. Trying to get Cas and whatever embarrassing sounds he was about to let loose as far from his mom and brother as possible.

Opening the door was a train wreck. He ended up using Cas’s ass to lever the handle downward but the pressure must have been in all the wrong places because Cas literally _screamed_ and tightened his arms around Dean’s head, crushing the ever-loving bejeezus out of him so he had to wander blind into the room, only realizing he’d made it to the bed when he tripped over it. Cas toppled down first and Dean spilled on top of him, way too many limbs to make any part of being In Bed With Cas comfortable.

Cas was chanting something that sounded like a strange conglomeration of Dean’s name mixed with slapdash Enochian. And yeah, Dean’s Enochian wasn’t _great,_ but even he knew the word for _Help._ And Cas was grunting it out with his eyes squeezed shut like he was in physical pain, legs still around Dean’s waist so he could press up into him. The buckle on his slacks was going to be permanently imprinted into Dean’s stomach.

“Cas,” he said, “baby,” and since when had pet names been a thing but he didn’t have time to analyse it because Cas was turning toward his voice like a flower in the sun. “Does this mean I can touch you now?”

Cas gasped and nodded, still chanting.

“Okay, alright, I’m gonna try and help, okay? Just… Just let me know if I go too fast or there’s something I shouldn’t— _oh.”_ Cas grabbed his hand and shoved it back between his legs which Dean interpreted to mean that he was very much okay with Dean getting a start on things. He twisted his wrist to get his palm against the bulge in Cas’s slacks and the angle was way off—he was going to get carpal tunnel in a minute—but Cas was clinging to him like a lifeline so the only obvious choice was to press down with the heel of his hand, and slip a finger down to press into the fabric behind the weight of Cas’s balls.

The result was so instantaneous there may as well have been a button down there. Cas arched so far off the bed that Dean was barely even touching it anymore, just sitting on a glorified bridge of Cas’s body that connected his feet and head with the mattress and literally nothing else. He would have clambered off if Cas wasn’t holding him so tightly his wrist was about to break.

Cas’s mouth was open on a scream that only became audible after five seconds of immobility, in which Dean tried to guess if he should help or not.

Five seconds after _that,_ Cas’s spine relaxed enough for his back to lower to the mattress, and Dean ended up sitting on his crotch, leaning back against his folded legs. He extricated his hand before it snapped off.

Cas blinked up at him, and—thank God—he looked at least partially lucid. “Dean,” he graveled, “is it going to feel like that every time?”

Which. Okay. What a question. “Um.” How was he supposed to talk an angel through multiple forced orgasms? “Yours seem… a little more powerful than… the average person… might expect?”

“They’re going to kill me,” Cas said morosely.

“Hey, now. None of that. No one’s dying today.” Cas shivered and lurched as the whole thing started again, and Dean amended himself. “No one except Crowley, maybe.”

Cas looked at him with the dying remnants of lucidity. “Dean, do you… would you please make love to me?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [ImpalartSociopath](http://impalartsociopath.tumblr.com/)! You can find the original art [here!](http://impalartsociopath.tumblr.com/post/181124176495/some-sweet-destiel-to-accompany-omgbubblesomgs) Go give Imp some love for the adorable noodle bois <3


	2. Dean! Don’t let it stop!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean sped up his hand, still murmuring soothing nonsense at the ceiling and trying to determine the likelihood of extreme damage if Cas sneezed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by me cackling at my own metaphors
> 
> this chapter also brought to you by Gertie "set the device to the 'bring him to the edge and keep him there until his dick gets stimulated' setting" Craign
> 
> this chapter also brought to you by majestic "jizzcuzi" duxk (ty for the beta ducky!)

The first thing that needed to be seen to was their clothes. Because as bad as being constantly stimulated by a warded prostate massager was, being constantly stimulated by a warded prostate massager _while clothed_ was probably worse.

His own shirt and jeans were easily dealt with, even with Cas clawing at him every time he leaned away. Cas’s slacks were another matter altogether. He tried to unbuckle them but the pressure was obviously Not Helping the Situation, and Cas and the stupid metal band kept getting in the way. In a fit of desperation, Dean leaned down and kissed him. Cas _aah_ ed into his mouth and speared his tongue straight past Dean’s lips, which was hot as hell and, thankfully, distracting enough for Dean to unbuckle Cas’s belt and get the zip down far enough to push the whole lot over his hips and—

“Ugh, Cas.” His hand had just gone through a whole mess of something he didn’t think about too closely. And, really, how was Cas even _producing_ this much spunk? Some weird angel thing? “Okay, listen, you gotta get yourself in a shower, man.”

Cas groaned. “Will that help me?”

“I mean, yeah. Probably. And more importantly it’ll help _me._ Because I sure as shit ain’t putting my hand down there again any time soon.”

 “Dean, _please._ It’s… it’s _too much.”_

“Yeah, okay, alright just… okay can you just clean up a bit for me? Here, come on…” He peeled Cas off the bedspread, leaving his clothes behind, and helped him into the ensuite. The mess between his thighs was even grosser when seen in the bathroom light, and Dean hurried him into the shower. “Okay, hot, here, cold, here, use as much soap as you need and just—”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I’ll be back in a minute I’ve just got to get some… things.” Cas made a face like all the puppies in the world had just died, which was vastly incongruous to the rock-hard erection he was sporting.

“Don’t leave!” he begged. “It’s starting again!”

“Right, ah…” Dean leaned into the spray. “Here, let me—” He manoeuvred Cas’s hand into a loose fist around his cock. Cas looked at him desperately until he pressed firmer and that… definitely seemed to work. Cas groaned and fell into the shower wall, pumping his fist again.

“Dean, that, _oh,_ feels, _aah.”_

“Good. Great. Okay, you just. Keep doing. That. I’ll be back in… sixty seconds.” He firmly put the Sexy Thoughts somewhere to be dealt with in the near future and raced back into the bedroom. He ripped open the bedside drawer, grabbing lube and condoms and, fuck it, the candles, too. Technically they were emergency summoning candles but he figured he needed to ‘summon’ some romantic atmosphere so they would do. He had been dreaming about this moment for, well, _years._ And he was going to make at least an _effort_ to make it as-fucking-perfect as possible. This was _Cas,_ after all.

_Cas._

And of course his brain had to catch up while he was wielding a lighter, because suddenly he was burning his finger and lurching to the bed to take steadying breaths as he utterly failed to process the fact that he was preparing for sex. With Cas. With _Cas._ An angel who was currently jacking himself in Dean’s shower, aided by a grace-proof vibrating toy in his ass.

What kind of fucked up life did he even lead that this was going to be how he ended up banging the guy he’d fantasised about for the past decade?

Crap, crap, crap, crap, _crap._

He crept up to the bathroom door and peeked through. Cas was on his knees beneath the spray, and he didn’t look like he’d totally gotten the hang of jerking himself, but he didn’t look like he was in pain, either, so Dean probably had, like, a few minutes of freak-out left.

_Crap, crap, crap crap crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap_

_Bzzzzzzz._

His ringtone blared out from the pile of his jeans, and he rifled through the pocket, answering on autopilot because he was still only halfway through his inner crap-ologue and he was going to multitask his phone call with his freak-out because he was an _adult,_ thank you very much.

“Eh?”

“Dean! How’s, uh… everything going?”

_I’m standing in my boxers holding a lighter and some condoms while watching an angel sin in the next room._

“Peachy.”

“Oookay… well, I, uh, need to know what metal the thing’s made of. Looks silver in the photos but I need to know for sure.”

“We’re only just down the hallway.”

“Yeah, uh, _no thanks,_ Captain Exhibitionist. No one’s invented brain bleach strong enough for that yet. Just tell me now.”

Dean opened the door a bit wider and looked down at Cas, still kneeling beneath the shower and looking more frustrated than before. “Definitely silver,” he confirmed, feeling like a pervert while Cas didn’t know he was there. “You got something?”

“Working on it. Are you guys… okay?”

_If I light myself on fire will this whole day cease to exist?_

“We’re super.”

“If you need help—”

_“Sam.”_

“Look I don’t want to offer either but I’m just saying that sounded pretty intense in the car and if you can’t control Cas or whatever—”

Well _that_ snapped him out of his imminent panic attack. “Oh, I know you didn’t just insult my skills, jerk.”

Cas must have heard him, because he turned to glance over his shoulder and, okay, wow, he looked way more wrecked than a two-minute hand job should have entailed. “Dean,” he whined.

“Right, gotta go, Sam. Text next time, okay?”

 _“Dean!”_ Cas was making grabby hands at him.

Sam barked a laugh on the other side of the phone. “Alright, Casanova. Use a condom!”

“Sam, you little—”

“ **DEAN!** ” Cas bellowed, loud enough that Sam probably heard from the library, with or without the phone. Dean hung up and threw it behind him and met Cas halfway across the bathroom.

“Alright, okay, I’m here, baby.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” Cas was babbling. “I can’t make it happen. Every time I get close the, the thing, it stops, and I can’t, I _can’t.”_ He shoved Dean right back through the open door, barely coherent. _“Dean!_ It won’t let me!”

“Okay, just. Come on, come here.” He walked backwards until he could pull the wet and whining Cas back onto the mattress, rolling so he was on top and then wondering what to do when he got there.

 _Have another freak-out,_ his brain helpfully supplied.

He considered it, but then Cas made a pitiful whimper, so instead he reached down and didn’t let himself think about the way his hand curved oh-so-easily around a dick that wasn’t his.

Cas made a noise that sounded alarmingly like a blue whale. “Aa _aah!_ Don’t stop! Dean! Don’t let it stop!”

“Okay, Cas, easy, I’ll get you there, come on. Easy, now. Stay calm.”

Cas was not heeding his advice, wriggling and thrashing beneath him and, okay, the shower might not have been the _best_ idea because Dean was having a hard time holding him still between his knees, and the bed was getting wet beneath them and Cas seemed to be harbouring a fear that Dean was about to up and leave him, because he kept grabbing at him and hauling him closer. Which was really not making this the most ideal hand job, if Dean was being honest. Cas had one hand around his bicep, keeping Dean’s arm bent awkwardly between them as he continued to administer an I-am-not-thinking-about-it wristie. Cas’s other hand was firmly tangled in Dean’s hair, levering him close to Cas but at an extremely odd angle that meant he couldn’t even see what he was doing downstairs. He put his free hand around Cas’s, trying to relieve the strain, but Cas either didn’t feel or didn’t care, so Dean guessed he was staying in that position until Cas decided otherwise.

“Shh,” he soothed, “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let it stop!” Cas wailed, flexing his hands and pulling Dean’s head back in a spine-crunching bend that changed the situation from Get Cas Off Soon to Get Cas Off Before He Breaks A Vertebrae. Dean sped up his hand, still murmuring soothing nonsense at the ceiling and trying to determine the likelihood of extreme damage if Cas sneezed.

He could sense that Cas was close, at least. His body was doing those tight little squeezes that Dean recognised from whenever he jacked himself off. He couldn’t _see_ them on Cas, because he was still being held in Cas’s best interpretation of a pretzel, but he could feel them between his thighs and Cas had started making little huffs of sound which had to be a good sign.

“Almost there,” he reassured. “Just a bit more.”

Cas’s body tightened up beneath his, straining towards the end goal when suddenly he went loose and just _wailed._

_“It stopped!”_

“No I didn’t!”

“The _thing!_ It stopped!”

Oh. Right. The vibrating thingy.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve still got you.”

“Dean!”

Cas’s hips lifted up into Dean and his cock was trying to break some world records or something because it was hard enough to hammer nails. Thick and jumping in Dean’s hand. He absolutely could not be far off, even without the prostate thing.

Thinking about Cas’s cock obviously led to thinking about his own cock, and how it very much wanted to ponder the “make love to me” request from earlier. He carefully sidelined that thought for later and jerked his fist hard and fast, trying to ignore just how responsive Cas was as he did.

_“Deeaaan!”_

“Come on, Cas, let it go, come on.” He swiped his thumb over the head of his cock and Cas thrashed from side to side, yowling like a street cat. Dean swiped his thumb again and Cas clenched hard, lurching up as his dick jerked and a thick line of come splattered up his chest and over Dean’s hand.

“Aah! _Aah!”_

“That’s it, yeah Cas, that’s it.”

Dean gentled his strokes, keeping them long and slow as Cas worked through what was clearly a very intense orgasm. If it was possible for dicks to be jealous then his own might be starting a club.

Cas’s hold eased and Dean tried to realign his spine into something at least comparable to horizontal. He wiped his hand on the bedspread and put “burn the sheets” on his to-do list for after they fixed Cas.

Cas blinked blearily up at him. He looked… well not _content,_ but at least he wasn’t a horny octopus anymore. Small wins!

“Alright?” he asked, slipping off Cas’s thighs.

“Hardly.” Cas looked down his body at the streaks of jizz everywhere and removed them with a wave of his hand. Which was an awfully useful tactic that Dean would probably have liked to have known before dumping Cas in a shower. But at least he would be making use of it in the very very near future. “I might only have a few minutes until it starts again,” Cas said gloomily.

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.” _Pun fully intended._

Cas rolled over to face him. “Dean, I meant what I said.”

“About making love? Way ahead of you.” He grabbed the lube and condoms from the side table where he’d dropped them in his earlier freak out. He quickly ripped a packet open and rolled a condom on, trying hard not to just jack himself now that his hand was in the correct proximity to his dick.

Cas jerked and groaned, arching gently into the bed.

“Shit, has it started already?”

Cas curled into a ball and then uncurled, reaching for Dean unconsciously as his eyes clenched in discomfort.

Dean mentally pencilled Crowley in for an appointment with his fist.

“Dean,” Cas whined. He sounded so _lost._ Dean amended his appointment schedule to two fists. And a grenade launcher. “Dean, _please.”_ And a holy water jacuzzi.

“Okay, I’m right here, I got you.” He pushed Cas onto his back and then eased his legs apart until there was room to kneel between them. Then he snicked open the lube bottle and squeezed out a dollop onto one finger. “This’ll be cold, okay? But it’ll warm up in a second.” He went slow, trailing his finger beneath Cas’s balls until he got to his hole. Cas didn’t seem to have any negative reaction to that so he put the lightest pressure there. The tip of his finger was immediately swallowed up.

Cas yelped and clenched, bringing his hips up to try and get more of Dean into him.

“Woah, Cas!” He’d forgotten that Cas had already been slicked open once today. The first finger met little resistance. He pressed in just a bit more.

And then he encountered a _problem._

“Uh oh,” he muttered. He’d forgotten that there was already something in Cas’s ass. He edged his finger around the gently buzzing toy, trying to find a way around it, but it was lodged tight and unless he could get the enchanted metal band off to release the toy there was no way his dick was going to fit in there, too.

“Dean please! Dean!”

The toy’s vibrations kicked up in intensity, matched by Cas’s cry and Dean’s wince. “Might have a bit of a set back here, buddy.”

Cas blinked at him helplessly and his eyes were big and blue and so full of trust that Dean knew he was in too deep. He was head over heels for this stupid angel.

 _I’m so screwed,_ he thought. _Might as well be literally screwed as well._

“Okay, baby. Guess you’re going to be fucking me this time.”

Cas grabbed his shoulders and yanked him down until he was sprawled over Cas’s chest with Cas’s lips smushed up against his face

“I want that,” Cas garbled into his cheek. Holding his face like maybe he was trying to be romantic but falling way short of the mark.

“Alright yes okay you—” he tried to extricate himself “—want to make love I get it can I have my face back please?”

A beeping sound filled the room and they both stopped what they were doing to look around. The beeping got faster.

“Is that you?” Dean looked down at Cas’s stomach. Cas looked slightly blearily down, too.

“It’s the implant. It feels… very odd.”

The beeping got faster.

“It’s uh… not about to blow up, is it?”

“It feels like it’s touching my true form.”

“How is that even possible?”

The beeping got so fast it turned into a whine and then abruptly cut off. Cas opened his mouth to answer but whatever he was about to say got lost in a bellow as he jerked so hard Dean flew off the bed.

“Cas!”

With a _whoomph_ two huge black masses burst into the room, throwing furniture aside as they did.

“Shit! Cas! What the—”

The overhead light exploded and Dean ducked to hide his face from the shattering glass. The black things clenched and spread and one of them buffeted him as he tried to get upright. They felt… _feathery._

“Are those your _wings!”_ They kept getting bigger and bigger until half the room was just feathers and shadow. “Cas are those your _WINGS?”_

Cas bellowed again and appeared from between them, naked and blazing like a goddamn lighthouse. His eyes landed on Dean and burned blue and the look on his face was powerful and… _hungry._ He looked at Dean like he was going to _devour_ him.

Dean’s cock leaped to attention like it was a soldier and Cas had just sounded the horn for battle. Sweet merciful Jesus _yes_ Cas.

Cas’s wings spread out to encompass the room and Dean was going to cancel every porn subscription he had because he had jerk-off material covered for the rest of his _life._ Cas’s wings were huge and glossy and powerful and Dean wanted to fucking _bury himself_ in them. Cas wasn’t Cas anymore. He was Castiel, Angel Seraph of the Motherfucking Lord.

The bedside lamp exploded, and a pop and crash announced the departure of the bathroom light, too. Luckily Cas gave off more than enough light to see by so Dean didn’t miss a single second of him lowering his eyes and raising one hand like he did when he was about to start smiting.

Dean would have sprinted the few feet if given half a chance, but apparently that would be wasting too much time and Cas wanted him _now._ He felt a lurch beneath his sternum and flew through the air towards the bed, spinning midway and landing sprawled against the wall above it. He kicked out and his feet connected with precisely _nothing._ He was being held there by _Cas._

Cas advanced on him, wings arching high overhead to smother the wall where Dean was hanging off his grace.

“Mark me down for scared _and_ horny,” Dean panted.

The bedside table blew up in a spray of splinters.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't be posting again until after Christmas so... Happy holidays everyone!! I hope you have a splendid break with family, friends, or your 150 open AO3 tabs.
> 
> xxx


	3. A monument to the hickey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has remote access to the grace-proof insertable and he's turned it on to the ~angel setting~ and apparently a sex toy touching your true form is a little, er, intense. #Pray4Dean'sAss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all having a wonderful break! If you're up north please stay warm, and if you're down south please for the love of god someone bring me some ice water my eyeballs have melted into my skull
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to [Gertie "make him do the smitey sex face" Craign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign) and the wonderful beta [Majestic "you need a better word for only-going-into-the-sex-room-under-dire-circumstances" Duxk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk) (ps i didn't find a better word. or any word.)

Once, when he was a kid, he had stolen one of those model dummy things from a clothes shop near the school John had dumped him and Sam at. He had dressed it in one of his dad’s old shirts and left it around the house with one arm raised and a post-it note stuck on its fist. _Never forget to clean your gun before bed,_ it had said, and Dean could actually hear his dad’s voice when he read it. Sam had laughed so hard he’d snorted milk out of his nose and so Dean had left new notes on it every morning until John had returned two weeks later. The dummy had stayed in whatever position he had left it in.

He felt a bit like that dummy now. Cas was pulling and shoving him like he was trying to recreate Sam’s 5th grade geometry schoolbook one shape at a time. Dean didn’t have enough limbs to make a tetrahedron but dammit if Cas wasn’t hellbent on trying it, shoving one of Dean’s legs up over a shoulder and the other pressed out wide against the wall until Dean could feel parts of him literally creaking. Cas thrust his hips into the space he’d created and Dean’s tailbone started drafting a formal complaint to be lodged with the Teaching Cas About Human Restrictions committee. His hips were going to be co-signers if Cas didn’t stop trying to use them to jackhammer through the concrete.

“Cas, woah,” he wheezed, grabbing at anything in reach in an attempt to steady himself. “Cas I’m not going anywhere, ease up babe.” Cas did nothing of the sort. He pressed himself into Dean’s chest and clawed at him wantonly. The drawers in Dean’s dresser flung out and crashed into the far wall. “Hey!” Dean wriggled against the wall. “Cas, that was uncalled for!” The books began to topple out of his bookshelf. “Sam’s going to hate you if you damage a book, Cas!”

Cas responded by pressing Dean’s head to the side and biting maybe a little too hard at his neck.

“I have an artery in there!” Dean yelped helplessly, hoping Cas wasn’t far gone enough to decapitate him during Sexy Times.

“Dean what the hell!” Dean craned his neck—which had been pretty craned already—and found Sam in the doorway.

“Sam it’s not what it looks like.” (He had no idea what it looked like.)

“Are those _wings?”_ Oh great. Mom was on the scene too.

“Mom it’s definitely not what it looks like.” (It was probably exactly what it looked like.)

Cas bit at Dean’s jaw and Dean had to duck his head to stop Cas’s wings blocking his vision. Although of all the situations to have blocked vision in, surely this was top of the list. Sam had a hand in front of his face, either blinded by Cas’s glowy-ness, or blinded by how very very naked they were.

“Dean something’s going on! The bunker instruments all lit up and there’s like three extreme weather events happening in the state right now!”

Dean groaned. “I think that, uh, might be Cas.”

“What did you _do?”_

Cas dug fingers into his thighs and he slid a few inches further up the wall. _Ow._ “I didn’t do anything! He went all smitey all on his own!” Cas pushed his legs out even further and Dean yelped, slapping him on the arm and hissing, “Okay there are way too many family members in here for that, pal!” (Although if he was being honest Sam and Mom were probably too busy trying to divert their eyes from Cas’s (albeit glorious) ass to be too concerned with Dean’s (equally glorious) dick.)

One of Cas’s wings flapped furiously and Dean was going to need to brush up on his carpentry skills because there went half his furniture. He didn’t have long to lament the loss of his favourite cupboard as Cas used the wing’s momentum to shove Dean even higher, until the top of his head was knocking on the ceiling. Cas made an actual, literal growl sound in Dean’s ear and his other wing battered the wall next to them.

“Oh holy heck,” Dean squeaked. Only because of how far he was from the ground, not because of how hot Cas sounded when he growled right in Dean’s ear. When had his hands locked around Cas’s neck?

“You have to calm him down!” Mom yelled from somewhere at floor level. “Sam, you take that side!” Dean tried to look over Cas’s shoulder and ended up with a face-full of feathers.

“I don’t think _calming down_ is top on his priority list right now!” Dean yelled back. Cas punctuated the remark with another hard thrust between his legs. The metal band knocked Dean’s hipbones and their dicks rubbed together. Dean made a sound that no one should ever be forced to hear from a family member.

“Keep it in your pants,” Sam snapped, trying to grab hold of the end of Cas’s left wing as it turned Dean’s room into a snowstorm, except with bits of book and table instead of snow. The wing dodged him without Cas seeming to direct it, intent as he was on turning Dean’s neck into a monument dedicated to the hickey.

On the other side of the room Mary gave up trying to grab the right wing and settled for throwing herself on top of it.

The wing threw her straight back off.

And then it went through the wall next to her head.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean shouted. “Cas, woah! Too much! Time out! Break it up there, buddy!”

Mary shook the debris out of her hair and staggered to Sam’s side. “We have to do something!” she shouted. “Maybe we can take one wing together?”

“No!” Dean yelled. “Stop it! You’ll just get hurt!”

They ignored him and readied themselves to jump on the left wing.

Cas seized his ear and started gnawing on the lobe and Dean’s blood rerouted southwards. He yelped and tried to arch under Cas’s hands but there was grace _everywhere_ and he couldn’t do anything except take what Cas wanted to give.

“We said _calm him down!”_ Sam yelled. “You’re doing the opposite of what we said to do!”

Since Sam currently had a fistful of feathers in one hand and a dismembered table leg in the other Dean didn’t think he had much high ground in the _Calm Cas Down_ department, but he didn’t get to argue about it because Cas chose that moment to jam a tongue in Dean’s ear and speaking suddenly become a secondary priority.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” he moaned instead.

“Sam, this isn’t working! We need to hold him down! If we get rope we can—”

Maybe Cas liked the idea of rope in the bedroom too because Mary didn’t get to finish the sentence before the walls started shaking and bits of ceiling began to fall in.

“No rope!” Dean shouted. (Well. Maybe rope. Later. When Cas was less smitey.) (But not _too_ much less smitey.)

“We have to calm him down!”

Dean smacked his hand against the wall, which was the only thing he could smack because Cas still had him spread against it like a virgin offering. _(Oooh, now there was a roleplay idea to come back to later.)_

“No rope!” he yelled again. “Get out of here!”

“Dean you’re not listening! We have to calm him down or the whole bunker’s gonna go down! And then the rest of the state!”

“Ah, _fuck!”_ Cas’s hand had found his chest and was kneading his pecs. Dean swore with a bit more colour. “Jesus, fuck, get the fuck out! Mom, Sam, I’m serious! Grab the summoning shit and get out of the bunker. I have a plan but it’s either going to calm him down or rev him way back up.”

“ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT SEX?” Sam bellowed. “WHY DO ALL YOUR WORST IDEAS INVOLVE SEX!”

“Those are my _best_ ideas!”

Cas made a keening screeching sound way back in his throat and scrunched his eyes up. He looked so out of it. Almost like he was in pain.

A muffled _boom_ sounded from outside and Dean caught the alarmed look Mary and Sam shared.

“We don’t have time to argue!” he called down at them. “I’m safe with Cas but you’ve both gotta get out of here! Get the summoning stuff and get Crowley over here and _make him turn the thing off!”_

Sam and Mary exchanged a glance and then they both moved at the same time. “Good luck!” Sam shouted as he sprinted out of the room. Dean tried—and failed—to wave goodbye. Cas shoved their hips together again and Dean threw his head back to groan. He hoped this worked.

Cas made the terrible keening sound again.

“I know pal, I know. Let’s do it, huh? Why don’t you— _oh shit!”_ He realised immediately that they were missing a very important piece of equipment. “SAM!” he hollered. “SAM WAIT! TOSS ME THE LUBE!”

Either Sam was long gone or the request for lube didn’t meet his requirements for intentionally going back into the angel-sex-destructo-room.

“SHIT!” Dean yelled. Cas’s dick jostled insistently at his ass and ohh no, no, no _way_ was this happening without some lubrication. He tried to shove at Cas’s shoulder but Cas interpreted it as a love tap or something because he shoved back, snuggling up to Dean and whine/panting in his ear and pushing him so far up the wall that his head _and_ back ended up on the ceiling. Cas tucked his knee up into the corner of the wall and his dick prodded at Dean again. Bits of plaster cracked and fell around them but the section they were laying on (suspended on? hanging on?) stayed whole. Cas was destroying the entire bunker around them.

“Cas, buddy, I know this is intense but you’re gonna hurt me if you try to get in there without lube.”

Cas made a warbling cry and tried to get in there without lube.

“Cas, _please._ ”

Cas mashed his face to Dean’s and there wasn’t much in the way of cognition in his eyes but he made a sound that could possibly be interpreted as Dean’s name, and his cock was so hard it had to be hurting, so Dean tried again. “Come on, Cas. I just need a minute. Just let me stretch a bit _please._ It’ll be worth it I promise!”

One of Cas’s hands clenched in his hair and levered him back. The other hand splayed out on his stomach and _pushed._

“Fuck!” Dean shouted. Because Cas wasn’t pushing his _stomach,_ actually, he was pushing further than that. Something expanded in Dean’s fucking _insides_ and he had half a second to realise that something wet was dripping down his thighs before Cas’s cock made its reappearance and this time when it pressed against Dean’s ass there wasn’t a skerrick of resistance. _“Oh,”_ Dean whimpered. _“Oh fucking. Okay.”_

Cas shoved in with a bellow and came almost instantly.

 

 

 


	4. Cas, gimme!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas finds an outlet for all that sexual energy. 
> 
> (The outlet is Dean's ass.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2019 everyone! Don't forget to start the new year with lots of porn and shenanigans :)
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to the devil on my shoulder: [Gertie "Cas is super capable when properly motivated" Craign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign), and the bestest beta: [Majestic "Cas is still a player" Duxk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk).  
> Seriously, pals, I would not be here without you. 
> 
> And thank you to all of you reading!! This was an absolute joy to write and I'm so lucky that Gertie picked me to add smut to her fic <3 <3 I think we can all agree that there's just not enough ceiling sex in this fandom, is there?

Getting fucked upside down on the ceiling of his disintegrating home would not have been Dean’s first choice of locations, but if Cas kept doing the thing with his grace then it might just make the top ten.

As far as he could tell, Cas had shouted his way through three separate orgasms, and Dean would maybe have been a little jealous but for the fact that he was desperately trying to recover from just one of his own. Cas was making the task extraordinarily easier by lighting up Dean’s every nerve ending with pleasure, but he was also making it extraordinarily _not_ easier by keeping Dean immobilised.

It was as though Cas couldn’t stand the idea of only being able to _touch_ Dean. He had to be inside him. _In every sense of the word._ Cas’s dick was wedged so tight into his ass that whatever jizz was also in there didn’t have a chance of coming back out. The rest of Cas—his fucking _grace_ or whatever—was lodged just as deeply beneath Dean’s skin, clenching and caressing and whizzing around like sentient fireworks. And Cas’s wings. _Cas’s wings._ They were arched over them. (Or under them, really.) And every now and then they would flap thunderously and go through a wall or a bookcase. Each immense flap was accompanied by a howl from Cas as he tried to grind even further into Dean’s ass which, okay, it might have sounded sexy but there was _nowhere else for Cas’s dick to go._

“Okay, I’m here,” Dean panted soothingly. His hair was standing on end and he needed like fifteen showers but hey, Cas needed more soothing than he did, so. “Shh, that’s it, easy now babe, I’m not going anywhere.” (Like he could even if he tried.)

Cas threw his head back and then forward, and bit at Dean’s neck again. Dean struggled to loosen one hand from the grace that held them on the ceiling and maybe Cas was running out of juice because the hand came free after a second of wrenching. He used it to pat over Cas’s shoulder and side. “Come on,” he said. “You can do it. Gimme another one, baby.”

Cas whimpered and his grace flickered and teased Dean’s chest. Dean followed suit and used his free hand to rub over Cas’s pecs and circle his nipples carefully. They moaned at the same time and Dean pinched, roughly tugging a nipple out before letting go. Cas yelped so Dean did it again. A loud _bang_ echoed from somewhere outside the room, which Dean took to mean Cas had sensitive nipples and liked Dean touching them _very much._ This hypothesis was proven correct when Dean pinched again and Cas’s muscles locked up tight as he ground up into him as hard as he could. He started doing the sexy growl/keen thing again and very obviously came in Dean’s ass. Dean could _feel_ him pulsing deep.

“That’s it,” Dean said. “Yeah, Cas. That’s it.”

“Deeaaaaan,” Cas moaned.

“I’m here, I’m here. Can you hear me? Babe can you look at me?”

Cas blinked up at him and Dean had to stop himself from flinching. His pupils were so wide there was only a sliver of blue left around them and he looked fucking _wrecked._ Pale skin with flushed cheeks and his hair going every which way. But at least he was looking _at_ Dean.

“Cas? Can you hear me?”

Cas nodded and then gasped, his shoulders seizing up and then releasing. He buried his face in Dean’s neck and sucked a bruise there; no doubt another enticing addition to the Hickey Monument.

“Dean,” he panted. “Dean, it’s not stopping.”

“Yeah I uh, kinda gathered that.” Cas was still lodged right up in him, and he was making tiny little aborted thrusts that sent his grace zinging out along Dean’s skin with every pulse. Seriously. Dean needed to bottle that or something because people would pay a fortune for angel tingles.

“I can’t,” Cas said. “I can’t, I can’t, oh Father it’s starting again.”

No need to explain what _it_ was. Cas had never softened but he began thrusting in earnest now. It made a distinctly wet squelchy sound as the jizz was forced out with each plunge of Cas’s dick.

“Fucking _Jesus_ ,” Dean swore. The angel-lube combined with angel-jizz was dripping down onto his balls and getting all over Cas’s stomach and the metal band and then—fuck it all—dripping onto the bed below them. “This is so gross,” Dean whined, but he didn’t really have enough mental capacity to be grossed out for long because Cas was really going to town now, and if Dean flexed his hips _just_ right then Cas started _nailing_ that spot inside him that felt even better than the grace-sparks. “Yes, yes, yes,” he moaned. Despite coming only ten minutes prior he felt the inevitable rush of his dick perking up again.

From far (far, far) below them Dean heard the sound of his mobile phone. _Of all things._ He tried to catch a glimpse of it over Cas’s shoulder but he couldn’t make out anything except Sam’s name on the screen, which, really, Sam? Was now really the time to talk to your brother?

He hoped like crazy that Sam was only ringing to give him a heads up that they had found Crowley, or the counter-spell, or whatever. Either way he had no way of checking because Cas was hammering into him like a—fuck, like a jackhammer, actually—and he wasn’t going to be making it off this ceiling any time soon.

“Caaaaas,” he wailed. Cas hitched up one of his legs and used his grace to press the other one out into the barely-solid ceiling. Dean couldn’t even flex his hips now. “Gimme!” he begged. “Cas, _gimme!”_

Cas gimme’d. He latched on to Dean’s neck—the sensitive spot just below his jaw—and sucked _hard._ His grace zipped out from every point of contact and latched on to his nipples, his balls, the sensitive skin around his stretched hole. Everywhere except his dick. It would have been nice to get even a lick of stimulation there but really, he didn’t need it. Cas bore down on him like an upside down grizzly bear and bellowed through his orgasm. Which was great and all (yay Cas orgasms! Woo!) but left Cas scrunched up and unmoving, and left Dean _very much still hard._

They lay there panting. Well. They _hung_ there panting. Or whatever. The sweat dripped down Dean’s nose instead of backwards into his hair but he could get used to that. He sternly told his dick to be good and go away and just wait for Cas to feel better. It didn’t go away but it stopped sending _You Need To Come Right This Second_ signals so that would have to do.

Dean groaned and flexed. He wasn’t _broken,_ exactly. But certainly very, very sore. He hoped Sam and Mary were figuring shit out _on the pronts_ _._

“Cas?” he tried.

Cas moaned and leaned back. For the first time in what felt like hours his cock slipped free of Dean’s ass. “Dean,” he slurred.

Dean wanted to say something romantic. Like _Thank you for the first few rounds of sex in our relationship I hope we have a lot more and I love you very much._ Except it was hard to be romantic when he was still mind-numbingly horny and what felt like rivers of liquid were coming out of his ass.

So.

Fucking.

Gross.

“Ugh,” he said in lieu of an _I love you._

Cas didn’t even seem to notice. He pressed his forehead to Dean’s. “Are you okay?” he rasped.

“Super,” Dean replied quickly. “Absolutely peachy. Loved every second. Can’t wait for—oh shit, already?” Cas had just winced and from his expression Dean guessed they were about to go for round 1 million.

“It… It’s _intolerable,”_ Cas whimpered. “It’s touching my true form. It’s, _aah,_ it knows exactly how to, _hnngh,_ how to, how to…”

“Yeah, I get the idea.” He tried to wiggle his way into a comfortable position but he was on a ceiling so comfortable positions were hard to come by. “Come on, then.”

Cas latched on to Dean’s neck again (and they were going to have a _talk_ about his obsession with Dean’s neck when this was over) and hunkered back over Dean’s hips. Dean’s dick did the dick equivalent of a happy dance, which was like a quick bounce and twitch, except _cheerfully_. Yay! More sex with Cas!

Cas’s dick pressed up to Dean’s sore (but very ready) hole.

And then—damn Crowley to Ohio and back—the beeping started.

“Wait, what?”

“Is that the?”

“Oh for fuck’s—what more can there possibly be?”

The beeping gained speed and it was definitely coming from Cas’s lower belly, or at least, the insertable lodged inside it.

“Dean _what if it stimulates my true form even more?”_

“Is that even _possible?”_

The beeping got faster and faster until it was just a whir and there was really no time for second guessing.

“Go, Cas! Come on, quick! Get _in!”_

The whirring turned into a shriek and Cas slammed all the way in. Dean yelped because he wanted Cas but he maybe didn’t quite want _all_ of Cas in 0.2 seconds. But he didn’t have a chance to adjust before the shriek cut off and they both braced for whatever horrible thing would come next.

With a _schnick_ the belt snapped open and then poofed into a cloud of dust.

Cas gasped and every muscle in his body fell loose. Which was great and awesome and wonderful and yada yada Cas no longer being in pain yada yada, but, uh. What was _less_ great was the instantaneous gut-wrenching terror as they _plummeted_ ten feet onto the bed beneath them.

Dean’s stomach stayed up on the ceiling.

The rest of him did not.

He maybe would have mustered up a scream if it wasn’t for the fact that he was going to need about a year to recover from how the landing had shoved Cas’s dick so far up they were going to need a crowbar and a trained professional to pull them back apart.

“Caaaaas!” he wailed. And then screamed as a section of ceiling crashed into the floor next to them. Apparently the bunker was no longer being held together by Cas’s grace. He leaned forward— _ow, ow, my ass, oh my God, ow—_ and grabbed the elbow-thingy at the tip of Cas’s wing, hauling it up and over them. Cas barely blinked as Dean used him as a glorified umbrella-shield.

“Dean,” he said dreamily. “Ah, Dean. That’s better.” His wing tucked in protectively over Dean’s shoulders.

“What’s happening, Cas?” Now that blunt force head trauma was less likely Dean set to the task of pulling himself off Cas, made infinitely harder by Cas’s wing as it shepherded him back down. “Cas, buddy? What are you doing? Is it over?” He put his hand over Cas’s stomach but he couldn’t feel any vibrations. Had Sam and his mom figured out a counter-spell? He tapped Cas’s face but Cas just smiled at him hazily. “Cas? Cas, can you hear me? Is the thing off?” When Cas didn’t respond Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Guess I’ll find out myself.” He wiggled a finger down behind him until he could press at Cas’s hole. Cas sighed happily and made a soft, eager little sound when Dean’s finger easily slipped in. His dick twitched where it was still up inside Dean’s ass.

_Oh, hello._

_No, no. No time for that. Gotta get Cas safe first._

The plug thing was definitely off. He edged his finger against it and it felt like it maybe had a bit of give to it.

“Cas can you push it out?” He pressed down on Cas’s stomach and poked the thing with his other hand. Cas whined and squirmed slightly. “Cas? Babe, bear down. I think it’s loose. You have to push it out.”

The muscles beneath Dean’s hands flinched and flexed, and the insertable shifted.

“That’s it! It’s moving!” Come on, babe, all the way!”

Cas was relaxed and loose and already fairly well lubed, so he didn’t even have to put that much effort into popping the thing out with a gasp and another twitch of his dick. Dean flung it towards the wall and it ricocheted down the hallway because, oh yeah, he didn’t have that wall anymore.

Apparently Cas liked the feeling of the thing popping free, because he groaned and his wing cradled Dean even closer.

“It’s over,” Dean whispered.

Cas hummed and nuzzled his face into Dean’s. “Dean,” he slurred happily. He flexed gently and Dean bit off a groan that made Cas blink and focus on his face.

“I don’t suppose you could, uh… maybe finish what you started?”

Cas smiled blearily and flexed his hips again. His hand came down to form a loose fist around Dean’s cock and _oh yeah, baby, that was **it.**_

“Deaann,” Cas sighed again.

Dean could get used to his name said like that. Especially if it came with a slow, sexy handjob.

“Deeaann…”

“DEAN!”

_“DEAN!”_

Oh wait. _That_ wasn’t Cas.

“SAM?!”

“WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OKAY?”

Cas kept slowly slooowly jacking him off, grinding up into him as though they were having lazy Sunday morning sex, not post-cursed-object-removal-ohmygod-please-don’t-die sex.

“WE’RE FINE!” he shouted back, a little too high pitched.

“Dean,” Cas said happily. Was that the only word he knew now?

“THE BUNKER’S FUCKING WRECKED! HOW DO WE GET TO YOU?”

“AH, WHY DON’T YOU GIVE US A MINUTE TO CLEAN UP?” Dean yelled at his brother. Cas swiped his thumb softly over the head of Dean’s dick. Oh, what the heck. “MAKE THAT TEN!”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I forgot to write the bit about Cas using angel grace to hand-wave the bunker back into pre-sex conditions. You may fill in the gaps however you wish. Pun **fully** intended.
> 
> Thank you for reading my lovelies! Don't forget to check out Gertie's original fic: [The Best Laid Plans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10370922/chapters/22910472) if you haven't already! If you enjoyed this fic and need some PWP to start your year off, you might also like [The One With Dean's Anal Beads](https://archiveofourown.org/works/400851) by triedunture, which gives me giggles and wiggles every time I read it ;)
> 
> Stay awesome my loves!


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